


How to Unf*ck Your Life

by Bottledempathy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Humor, I am not a therapist, M/M, Slash, Slowish build, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, everyone has a heart, this is me trying to be funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bottledempathy/pseuds/Bottledempathy
Summary: Steve and Tony go through therapy post Civil War.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I took it down, but decided I will write what I want. This is supposed to be funny and angsty, and if you hate it you don't have to read. This is me distracting myself from a dying pet, and anniversary of a parent's death. 
> 
> Also, someone said this is crack!fic. I don't feel it is, but be warned.

He was an inventor, a billionaire, a playboy, and a philanthropist. He did not belong here. He did not deserve this. He was in charge of the Avenger’s, for Christ’s sake.   
'  
So SHIELD had decided he needed to see a counselor. A head shrink. This was not something he deserved. He had worked with the government to set up the accords. He had been the one who had been to hell and back. Not some suit behind a desk who decided he was unstable. Post-traumatic stress. This was insane. 

Granted, he was tired as hell, and it sure as shit had been a rough fucking three years. The accords, the Avengers breaking up, Pepper and he…that one hurt too much to focus on. Having the accords adjusted, getting SHIELD back on its feet, dealing with the fact that his parents…fuck. He really needed to stop remembering bad things. There had to be an invention there. The unfuck your shit life button. 

He should look into that.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned his head back against the wall. It was late for an appointment like this, but Stark money could keep a lot of offices open past business hours. He shifted in his chair, leaned forward, and tugged on his tie, loosening it. He rested his elbows on his knees, and wished, again, that he had said no to this. 

The waiting room was nice, but not overtly expensive. A fountain sat in the corner—bronze, with a fat cherub holding a canister of water. He hated cherubs. Why the fuck anyone would need a fat baby angel was beyond him. He found himself scowling at it and quickly tried to modify his expression. He returned to perusing the room. 

A pleasant looking woman sat behind the panes of glass, the brown leather seats were older but in decent shape. He leaned back in his seat and laid his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes. Maybe this would be ok. Maybe this would help. He had been stressed. He had been through a lot more than the average man. Maybe this would work. Pepper said he needed help. Pepper was smart and lovely. She knew this stuff. 

He frowned. Fuck that. He did not need counseling. The world needed to stop sucking so damn much. This was total bullshit.

“Can you relax?” a voice said beside him. He tensed, dug his nails into his palms until it hurt, and looked at the occupied chair three chairs down from his. Blond, crease between his eyes, irritated blue eyes and perfect damn teeth. The sun setting through the windows cast him in an almost angelic glow. 

Asshole. 

Yep. The team was back together and molding nicely. Thor, Bruce, Nat, Clint. Even new members Wanda and T’Challa were ready to move on. But not him and Captain Dickhead. The first meeting had ended in 

Tony’s broken nose, Steve’s busted lip, and a broken conference room table. Meeting two had started out with bagels, cream cheese, and coffee, but ended with Natasha burying her face in her hands, and Thor praying to an unknown deity for peace. The third meeting had ended with Fury telling them both he didn’t want to lay eyes on either of them until they “worked this shit out.” He’d said that, told them both to go to hell, and disappeared.

So, really, there had been progress when you thought about it. Which he had told Pepper. And Pepper, who apparently hated him, had suggested this. SHIELD had made a few calls and here they were. 

Steve’s voice made his blood pressure rise and he felt a scowl form quickly on his face. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Can you shut the hell up?” God, to be anywhere else right now. 

Steve blinked back at him and frowned. “If this is going to work we’re going to have to be respectful of one another.”

“Thank you so much, Captain Goldilocks. So glad you are here to keep us on the path to righteousness.”

Steve’s frown of disapproval made an appearance, and Tony had an irrational need to flick him between his perfect eyebrows. Flick him. And then maybe punch him. Maybe there could be a bus there, to run him over. Only if convenient.

“Stark, I don’t want to be here anymore than you. But the team…”

Tony felt anger rip through his body. He stood slowly and faced Steve walking down the row toward the other man, “And now we talk about the team? Where the hell was the team mentality when you left me frozen in Siberia?”

Steve’s went blank, unexpectedly. “You left me no choice, Tony.”

“You had a choice, Cap. You could have helped me. You could’ve told me. You could’ve done something. Fuck, Steve. Anything!”

“Tony, Bucky and I have a long history. Til the…”

Tony rushed forward until he stood directly in front of his chair. “If you say til the end of the line one more time…”

Steve slowly set down his magazine and rose to meet Tony’s eyes directly. His jaw was tight, his face flushed. 

Tony’s stomach churned and his fists clenched. This was going so well. 

There was a cough behind them, and they both turned slowly and looked back toward thea receptionist now standing in front of the door to the office. Her face was white, and she held a clipboard in front of her chest like a physical shield. 

“The doctor can see you now.”

Tony straightened and slapped on his best press smile. “Looking forward to meeting her. Right, Cap?”

Steve’s face blushed even more and offered a halfhearted smile. “Yes. Thank you so much, ma’am.”

Tony stooped down and grabbed his suit jacket off the table, but gestured to Steve to go first. Steve nodded and preceded through the large mahogany doors. 

Yep. Definitely gonna need an unfuck my life button. Next big Stark Industries product to hit the shelves.


	2. Therapy is complicated.

**chap 2

The room was a soft cream, with one lamp in the corner. It smelled faintly of cinnamon, and Tony hoped like hell it wouldn’t follow him home on his clothing. He was sure a Yanni CD was playing in the background, and was grateful he could only catch a note here or there. It was like boiling acid on his already fraught nerves. 

They sat quickly on opposite ends of the couch. He could see that Steve was desperately trying to reign in his own temper. His khaki pants were wrinkled, and he repeatedly swiped his hands down them showing his nervousness. 

The couch was corduroy with several pillows stuffed along the sides. The pillows were fluffy, but worn. Tony grabbed one as he slumped down in his seat, covering his lap. He then grabbed another and stuffed it into the seat between them. And one more. 

Ok, there were two left--they might as well be useful.

There was now a small tower of pillows between he and Steve, who was currently pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep, calming breaths. 

The doctor was a small woman, not overweight but not skinny, was wearing a tweed jacket and large dark glasses. Her brown hair was highlighted in a subtle way. She met Tony’s eyes without nervousness or hesitation. This was someone unafraid of two superheroes sitting in front of her. She reminded him briefly of a smaller version of Pepper. 

“Doc…”

“You may call me Leah,” she said, quietly, her sharp brown eyes, looking almost amused. “I spoke with Nick and he filled me in on some of the history between you two.”

Neither of them missed the use of Fury’s first name and their eyes met briefly. 

Leah smiled again. “I have higher security clearance that either of you,” she said as she crossed her legs. She looked at them both levelly. “Can you two tell me why you are here?” 

Tony nodded his acknowledgment. “I can cover this one, Leah. Little known fact. Captain America is a douchebag.”

“Tony, there is a lady present and that was unnecessary,” Steve pushed out through gritted teeth. 

Tony chuckled humorlessly. “Apologies, Captain Khaki pants. I forgot you were in the room,” Tony said, throwing a feral grin down to the other end. Steve’s face was turning red again. This gave him an immense amount of satisfaction. 

“This isn’t going to work,” Steve said, rising abruptly. He stood and started toward the door in the back of the office. 

“Captain Rogers…” the doctor began with a frown. 

“Oh, hang on, Doc.” Tony said, straightening his tie. He almost knocked his pillow fort over and paused to right it. “No worries.”

Steve stiffened and glared at Tony but did not leave. 

“You don’t know him as well as I do. This…” he said with a wave that encapsulated Steve from head to toe, “is kind of his thing. When things become difficult he either forms a rebellion, or leaves."  
Cap growled. 

Tony shot her his biggest smile. "No worries. He'll mail you a shit cell phone in a week or two with a heartfelt apology."

He looked up at Steve who was frozen in place, face flamed in anger. He could see his chest heave. 

"Oh, and he may or may not break your best friend's back. Depends on how much time he has. " He squinted up at Steve. "Scheduling's a bitch, isn’t it?"

He would like to say he was surprised when Cap split his lip. But he was a genius. Took a lot to surprise him.  
**

Tony sat his head pillowed on the couch, sitting on the floor, watching Rogers and his new shrink argue. He had a towel with ice resting on his lip, and it was stinging the hell out of his mouth. He winced, removed, and replaced it with a groan. So maybe being hit by a supersoldier was admittedly more painful than he remembered. His head was beginning to throb in rhythm with his heart.  
Cap was agitated, and whispering intensely, occasionally glancing back at Tony. Finally, he scowled at Tony, and shoved his hands in his pockets with a resigned look. 

The doctor turned and headed straight for Tony. She squatted down into the soft Berber before him. “How are you feeling?”

Tony smirked and winced when it hurt. “Like I was punched by Captain America. “

Cap slowly approached behind her and watched him warily. He crossed his arms over his chest, his red jacket revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. 

“So standard for these days,” Tony added, never breaking eye contact. Steve rolled his eyes. Dick. 

The doctor stood, and turned to face Steve. “As I just finished telling him…I can help you both. But I can’t do it if you won’t stay and work for it.” 

She turned back to Tony and jabbed a finger in his face. Tony was so startled he pulled back. “You, Mr. Stark, will be respectful. You will be serious. The time for fun and games ended long ago. The world needs you two idiots to work this out. Can you cooperate?” 

Tony pressed the ice onto his lips and closed his eyes. He nodded.  
**  
Ten minutes later they were back on the couch and Tony had broken down their pillow wall between them. He’d scrubbed his tie altogether, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Steve had removed his coat, and looked…well, tired. His normally perfect hair had had hands run through it so many times that it stood out at crazy angles. He was slumped back in his seat, head lulled to the side. It looked abnormal to Tony and he wondered if this was the first time he had really paid attention to Steve’s appearance in a long time. This, too, made his head hurt. Why should he care at all?

“Gentleman, we simply do not have a lot of time left for this session. We will continue tomorrow.” 

Steve frowned. “This is once a week, right?”

“Captain, it is whatever I tell you it is,” Leah said quickly rising to her feet. 

Steve sat up straighter and Tony started to speak but was shut down by Leah’s finger of doom. She arched an eye brow and he shrank in on himself. In a manly way.  
She turned back to Steve. “Our goal is one hour of honesty. One hour without the threat of violence, one hour of telling each other the absolute truth. Whatever is eating at you both, it needs to be aired. “

Steve frowned, glanced down at Tony and nodded. Tony shrugged and Leah glared. He quickly followed with a nod. 

“Tomorrow. 7 pm.” She stood. “Until then leave me and each other in peace.”

She sighed deeply. “Now get out of my office.  
**  
They rode in silence to the garage below, Tony with his hands tucked in his pockets, while Steve stood at attention, back ramrod straight until the elevator dinged open. A soft breeze moved in to the elevator and the sound of traffic could be heard in the distance. Steve looked back at him, nodded and headed out the door. It looked like they were the only ones on the level, and Steve headed for a motorcycle parked off to the left. Tony fished his keys out of his pockets, and pressed the button, his car beeping to allow his entry. He watched Steve’s retreating back but said nothing.  
Steve paused, and jammed his hands into his coat. He looked over his shoulder at the wall, but his eyes did not meet Tony’s. His face was pinched, his hair still sticking up at odd angles. 

He cleared his throat. “Tony…”

Tony squeezed his keys, and started to walk toward his car. He took a deep breath, and looked out toward the garage doors. He wondered if his head was ever going to stop pounding. 

Steve turned fully toward him. “I want you to know…”

Tony arched an eyebrow. 

“I really am very sorry for not telling you about Howard and Maria.”

Tony sucked in a breath, and pushed it out heavily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He quickly headed for his car, ducked in, and headed down the road, never looking in his rearview mirror.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not perfect, I am aware. But this is just for distracting me from real life, lol. Real life is a pain in the ass these days. 
> 
> Also, my beta is pretty busy, so if someone has any idea where I could get one please send me an IM. I'm far from a perfect writer. Anyway, hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season. 
> 
> Sorry for errors in grammar or in memory. I only saw Civil War once. :p

**  
Tony went for comfort this time. He rolled into the office in gray track pants, a new pair of Nikes, and his favorite Metallica t-shirt. He was early for probably the first time in…ever, and smiled winningly at the receptionist. The receptionist blinked, and shut the partition quickly. Ok, might take a few tries with that one. 

“I don’t think she likes us.”

Tony turned to find Steve, dressed in worn jeans and a large yellow hoodie declaring him a valued customer of Dan’s Custom Auto Detail. It was worn and soft, and a little big on Steve. Which actually gave Tony pause. Something seemed slightly off

“I prefer George’s” Tony said with a shrug. Steve blinked and scrunched up his in confusion. 

Tony gestured at his shirt and Steve looked down as if unaware of his own clothing. He said nothing when his expression changed back to blank. 

Steve shrugged dismissively. He sat abruptly in the nearest chair. His hair was still wet as if it had been recently washed. His clothes were wrinkled as if having been sorted from a suitcase. Probably from a hotel stay. 

Tony frowned. He didn’t care where Cap lived. It wasn’t his problem. He could barely manage keeping an eye on himself since Pepper left. He winced. Bad thought train. He didn’t need that now. 

Tony sat down too, one chair between them. He was tired. Tired in ways that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wasn’t a napper, but he would have willingly set aside time for one if he could have. He yawned loudly, and this got the frown of disapproval from Steve. 

“We need to rest, Tony. There’s no way to know when we will need to assemble.”  
Tony cut him off with a sharp gesture. He had been through enough nagging for a lifetime. "Fuck off, Cap."

Steve looked mildly offended for a moment, and then his face and posture went slack again. He buried his head in his hands. 

Tony blinked in surprise. He started to ask what was wrong when Leah appeared in the doorway. 

“Gentlemen.”  
**  
He didn’t build a fort this time. That was an improvement, right?

Steve was slumped again, which gave Tony pause. There was something off about the man. He had always been ramrod straight, as if ready for battle any minute. He sort of lulled to the left which gave Tony a headache. He wondered briefly about reaching over and repositioning him. 

 

Steve looked at him and frowned. Tony may have said that out loud. 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, and Tony sipped at the cup of coffee Leah had offered him. It had to be Folgers, but it felt too impolite to spit it back out. It was hot and it was dark, and that’s what he needed at the moment. 

“I’m glad you both came. We got off to a rocky start yesterday, but you are both here, and on time. That means something,” she said with a soft smile. She shifted and tugged at her corduroy jacket sleeves. Her bracelets gave a soft jingle as she shifted. She watched both men quietly.

“Can you tell me a little bit about your history together?” she asked. 

Steve shrugged. “Tony’s father was one of the men involved in the serum…”

"I read your files, Steve. Can you tell me a little bit about your history together?" she asked. It didn't come across as mean, simply matter of fact. Steve quickly looked down at Tony, a question on his face.

Tony shrugged. “We met fighting Loki. I saved his star-spangled ass.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Tony smirked back. Leah pointed. Tony flinched and decided to start over. 

“We did meet in a fight. You saw New York. We ate shawarma,” he said, again shrugging. 

Steve smirked at that. “That’s one of the first things he said when he woke up from that fall. He had never tried shawarma.”

Leah gave a soft smile. “What about after? Did you maintain a friendship?”

Steve sat up slightly and clasped his hands together. “I moved into the tower. Sometimes we worked out together. Ate dinner. Tony showed me some movies.”

“But did you consider yourselves friends?”

Tony reached a hand up and massaged the back of his neck, frowning. “I…uh. I thought we were.”

Steve sat up straighter and jammed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. "We were friends. Sort of. It was…complicated."

Tony felt a flush of anger. He balled up his hands and looked at the ceiling. 

“Tony, is there something you want to say?” Leah asked quietly. 

He grabbed a pillow and slapped it down between them. Not seeing another pillow, he stood it on its side to make more of a wall. “No. Not a damned thing. “He saw a second pillow behind Steve and reached out to wrench it away from him. Steve grabbed the pillow and glared. 

”Sure seems like you want to speak,” Steve said through clenched teeth. 

“Only speak if you would like to. It's his choice,” Leah added softly. 

Tony pulled on the pillow, but Steve held fast. 

“I tried to be friends,” Steve said sharply pulling on the pillow, causing Tony to lose balance and he tipped forward, landing with his head by Steve’s leg. He sat back up quickly, his face flushing. Steve released the pillow abruptly. Tony jerked it to his side. Smashed it down on top of the other. 

“We were friends, Steve. At least I thought we were. I don’t see what the complication was.”

“There are always complications with you, Stark,” looking at him sharply. “Nothing is ever simple with you.”

“Maybe you could elaborate on what the complications were. Was it when I let you live in my tower? Was it when you kept me from knowing the complications from my parent’s deaths? Or was it when..”

Steve turned flat eyes to Tony. "Is there any situation that isn't completely about you?

He turned to face Tony completely his jaw clenched. "Such very good friends that when the one person I had left in my life died, you didn’t come to the funeral. You didn’t call. Not even a text message,” Steve spat. He seemed surprised by his own words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “It’s just…complicated.”

Tony’s stomach dropped, and his face flushed. He stood, and went to stand behind the couch. His arms felt awkward as if he had forgotten how to use them. They hung listlessly at his side. 

“I didn’t…I didn’t know what to say,” Tony said, crossing his own arms across his chest defensively. 

Steve turned and stared at the wall behind Leah’s head. 

“So you wanted to hear from Tony?” Leah asked quietly. 

Steve flushed. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone. It’s…in the past.”

Tony blinked. He felt color growing in his own cheeks and wondered if he could call the suit to carry him out of the office. Feign an emergency. 

Maybe accidentally discharge a repulsor. 

Leah was staring at Tony now. Not moving. Not speaking. Waiting.

"Cap.." he said, slipping back into his vacated seat, and glanced down at the man beside him. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He needed a fucking drink. He could feel Steve's eyes move to him, but said nothing.   
He laid his head back on the couch. 

 

When he opened his eyes, Steve was still staring forward, eyes focused just past Leah’s shoulders. He was silent. 

 

"I'm fine," he said, voice choking and he coughed to hide it. He hesitated, but looked quickly back at Tony, catching his eye for a moment.  
Leah leaned forward, clasping her hands. "

This is good, gentleman."

**  
They stepped out into the garage again, but this time Tony noticed Steve had parked beside him. They moved slowly, but neither of them said a word to the other. Tony watched as Steve climbed on his bike, and the engine roared to life. 

“I was…sorry to hear about Peggy,” Tony said, and Steve stiffened, but turned back toward him. His face held shadows Tony had never noticed before. He seemed exhausted.   
He offered Tony a halfhearted smile. “Thank you, Tony. She was a good friend.”

Tony stopped and held up a hand. He listened for a moment, not saying a word, but gesturing at the bike, “She’s missing.”  
Steve looked confused. “Who is?”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Your bike. She’s missing.” He again pointed at the bike beneath Steve. 

Steve shrugged. “I know. Been meaning to spend a little time with her, but I’ve been preoccupied. “  
The bike suddenly gave a cough and puttered to a rest. Steve frowned and tried to restart her, but the engine never turned back over. His shoulders sank. He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair. 

 

Tony leaned over quietly and grabbed the knapsack from the back of his bike. "Looks like you're riding with me."

 

Steve was already shaking his head. “No, I’m good. It’s not that late. I can call a tow truck, get her in the shop at least.”

Tony opened the back door to his black SUV, and tossed the knapsack inside. He turned back to Steve and gestured back at the truck “Just let me drive you home. I’ll have Happy pick up the bike, and have it back to you before tomorrow. No charge.”

Steve said nothing, looking worried. 

“Really?” he said, arching an eyebrow at Steve. “Besides, Nat would have my ass if I left you here."

Steve frowned, but stood and moved back toward Tony. He shifted his feet, and zipped up his coat. “I grew up in the depression. I can’t argue with free.”

 

**  
They drove mostly in silence, Steve occasionally offering a quiet left here, or right up ahead. In between he closed his eyes and slumped against the window.   
Tony watched him from the corner of his eye, and knew he hadn’t been imagining things Steve was smaller somehow, as if weight had been dropped. His face was leaner, his energy level lower than Tony had ever been witness to. Rain suddenly began to pelt down, and he quickly switched the wipers on, listening to the rhythm as they swished back and forth. 

When they got just outside of the city Steve sat up and pointed at a McDonald’s. “Hungry. You mind?”

Tony’s face scrunched up. “You hate fast food. What the hell, Cap?”

Steve frowned and set up straighter. “You can give the “Cap” thing a rest anytime. And you can always drop me. I can walk from here, “he said reaching in the back toward his satchel. 

Tony growled. “Can we take it down a notch, McSensitive? I have been lectured after more than one hangover, “he said as his signaled a turn and swung into the lot, pulling into the drive thru line. . “about the dangers of fast food from Cap…”

He stopped and Steve was staring stonily back at him. “Steve Rogers.”

Another eye roll. Between the two of they had to have crossed some Guinness record for eye rolls. The thought made him smirk. 

The red Toyota in front of them was slowly perusing the menu, repeating that they needed a moment. Tony rolled down his window. “The fucking menu hasn’t changed in 20 years. Pick something!”  
The guy turned around to yell back, his chunky face flushed with rage. He blinked in surprise. “Yeah! Tony Sparks!”

Steve chuckled beside him and Tony shot him a glare. Hs smile remained. 

Tony leaned back out the window and faced Toyota man. “Order what you want. I’ll pay. Just get the fuck out of my way.”

The man’s car seemed to vibrate with glee, shaking from side to side, and he shouted an order at the drive thru and shot off to the first drive thru window, gesticulating behind him to Tony’s SUV.   
Tony pulled forward and leaned out toward the drive thru speaker. “If you get him away from here in less than a minute, everyone gets a one-thousand-dollar tip.’

 

He looked back at his passenger who had the frown of disapproval. 

“Tips for the working class? Me buying a meal for the less fortunate? You’ll survive.” He gestured at the menu before him and raised a questioning eyebrow. He heard the Toyota zoom off into the distance. 

“Five Big Mac’s. Five fries. Six fish sandwiches,” Steve said, leaning toward Tony as he perused the menu. 

“Twenty years, Steve. You’ve been awake long enough to know the menu.”

Steve blinked distinctive blue eyes back at him. “Orange hi-c.”

Tony repeated the order, and before he knew it, they were parked outside a shit Red Roof Inn, at room number 27, while Steve waded through the bag. The smell of fresh grease inadvertently made Tony's stomach growl, and without a word, Steve grabbed a Big Mac and tossed it in his direction while opening one of his own and diving in with enthusiasm.

Tony unwrapped it, took a bite, and swallowed. “So this is home?”

Steve shrugged for the 700th time that day and continued to munch on his own Big Mac, offering no comment. 

It was the most run down hotel Tony had the displeasure of laying eyes on in a long time. There was a pool to his left filled with debris and leaves, and a sad looking ice machine staring back at them forlornly. The door to Steve’s room was chipped, and the 2 hung sideways, irritating Tony’s frequently diagnosed OCD. There had to be bugs. He winced inwardly. Sweet lord, the bugs.   
He tried again. “Seriously, this is home? Do the roaches pay half at least?”  
Steve sighed and spoke around a mouthful of Big Mac. "I've slept in worse." He continued chewing, oblivius to his resemblance to a horse chewing on hay. 

Tony scowled. “You’re repulsive, Rogers. Seriously. People should know this about you.”

Steve took another bite. He looked down at himself and blinked back at Tony innocently. “Wha?” he asked, another mouthful of food. Some dribbled down onto his yellow sweatshirt. Grease showed at the corners of his mouth, French fry salt across his fingertips. 

“You’re seriously fucking repulsive There needs to be an expose on this,” Tony says, snagging a napkin from the bag and tossing at Steve. “Captain America ruined for millions of housewives across the country.”  
Steve grabbed the napkin. He was quiet for a moment, trying not to smile. He choked on a laugh and covered his mouth, swallowing down his mouthful of burger. Tony chuckled. “If you choke you’re on your own. You’re too disgusting to save.”

Suddenly, memories hit him. Steve driving the shield into the arc reactor, Tony lying in the cold, the taste of blood returning to his mouth. Steve's own bloody face looking down at him. He closed his eyes against the onslaught. He felt his throat choke, his heart rate speed up. He took several deep breaths and mentally counted to ten. 

He had to get past this. He was not a child. 

When he finally opened his eyes, Steve was half out the door, knapsack in hand, McDonald's dangling from the other. He looked back at Tony, as he swung the knapsack onto his shoulder. He suddenly looked tired again. "Thanks." He paused and gestured at the car. "For the ride."

Tony blinked back at him and started the car. He could still feel panic dissipating down his spine, the last vestiges of it still moving through his body. 

He said nothing as Steve closed the door, but flipped on the radio and backed out, heading for home.


	4. Bucky and Taco Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More talking. More fast food.

There was a clock on the wall in the shape of a very large coffee cup. It ticked and tocked, but remained the only noise in the room. 

Tony shifted on the couch, and scratched at his chin idly. 

Leah sat across from him, watching them silently. She didn’t seem to mind the silence, nor be bothered by the ticking of the clock. In all honesty she seemed remarkably content, legs crossed and chin resting on her right arm. She shifted and the scratch of her starched skirt seemed to echo loudly through the room. 

He glanced down at Steve who seemed to be completely enamored with the top of his shoe. He made no move to speak, and sat unmoving, except for the occasional scratch at the back of his neck.  
Tony scowled and wondered if he had bed bugs. Bed bugs everywhere, crawling all over the couch, slowly making their way across the couch to hitch a ride on Tony’s suit. He could almost feel it and shuddered. 

Steve glanced down at him, but went back to scratching his neck. 

“So we have nothing to say today, gentleman?” Leah asked finally, but still seemed unbothered if they chose to remain silent. 

Tony flicked at some imaginary lint on his suit, and readjusted his watch. His panic at Steve’s motel had been embarrassing at best, and slightly emasculating. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant feeling and he was struggling to keep it buried deep within his gut. Maybe never ever speak of it. Maybe eliminate the giant bed bug at the end of this couch and never ever have to speak or think of it again. He rubbed a hand briefly across his brow, ducking his eyes from their view. 

“The weather wasn’t too bad today. Not too much snow in the forecast,” Steve said unexpectedly.  
Tony dropped his hand from his eyes, and peered down at him in confusion. 

“What?”

Steve gestured toward the large window looking out onto the city street lights. The wind could be heard urgently battering against them. Snow pelting with a soft ting.  
Steve spoke again. “Weather,” he added slowly, and gestured again, looking at Tony as if he didn’t speak English, or understand what was happening around him. 

“The weather,” he parroted back at Steve in confusion. He swiveled back toward Leah. “He wants to talk about the weather.”

Cap groaned. “I don’t want to talk about the weather you ass.”

“Language.” Tony added, sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest.

“They are going to put that on my tombstone,” Steve added morosely, squaring his shoulders and rising. He ended up with the soft silhouette of city lights behind him as he gazed out the window at the falling snow. 

Steve turned back toward them, and leaned a shoulder against the window sill. He took a deep breath. “They’ve…they’ve made some progress with Bucky.”

Tony froze. His heart hammered in his chest. He looked quickly back toward the door but steeled his nerves and looked back at his teammate. “Don’t. Not yet.”

Leah shifted forward, her hand coming to rest on her knees. Tony could feel her eyes on him, but chose to keep his eyes on the other occupant of the room. Steve met his gaze unwaveringly. 

“It’s what we are here to deal with, aren’t we?” Steve asked, finally averting his gaze. His eyes seemed to focus back on his beloved shoe. 

Tony’s heart continued to race. He leaned back and grabbed the arm rest of the couch, squeezing it until his knuckles whitened. 

“Why can’t we talk about this, Tony?” Leah asked quietly, her voice soothing but sounding distant over Tony’s thumping heart. He could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his mind, calling out for Howard. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of memory. 

“Tony?” Leah asked, quietly, but insistently.

Sweat broke out on his back, tiny droplets reminding him of the heat in the room. “Is it hot in here?” he asked, feeling it also break out on his upper lip. He licked at his dry lips.

“Why can’t we…”Tony shot to his feet. He looked around the room, gaze shooting from Steve to Leah. Steve stepped forward slowly, holding his hands up as if dealing with a wounded animal. 

“He didn’t know what he was doing.”

Tony took a deep breath. “He killed my parents,” he said quietly, closing his eyes. 

He opened his eyes and turned back toward Steve, meeting his gaze. 

Tony flitted his eyes back at Steve and then at Leah. His stomach was still churning but the world seemed to be coming back into focus. His heart rate slowed, and he looked back toward the couch. He took a stumbling step forward, and sat down hard. The couch creaked loudly under his weight. He focused on his breathing for a minute, and realized Steve sat beside him again. 

“I know he did,” Steve said, scrubbing his hands down his pants. “But he was controlled by Hydra. Conditioned. If you knew what it was like, to have someone else in charge of your mind, your thoughts.”

Tony felt his face heat up. “My Mom, Cap. She was my mom,” Tony said hoarsely. “Jesus, she was my mom,” he said, his voice cracking. His heart felt heavy his breathing labored. It didn’t matter how long…he missed her.  
Tony felt no remorse for not mentioning Howard. He was suddenly overcome by exhaustion. His mouth felt like cotton, his head was beginning to pound. 

“I was 18 when Ma died,” Steve said, unexpectedly. His voice had gone soft, his body seeming to curl in on itself. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. 

“I had nowhere to go. I was alone. I was scared. I didn’t know how I would make it.” 

Tony couldn’t help but watch him, fascinated despite himself. “I was so sick. I got turned down for job after job. I remember being so hungry…”

His eyes looked unfocused, and squeezed his hands into fists. “Bucky…Bucky took me in. He said I didn’t have to do it on my own. Took me into his place, gave me the first meal I’d had in 2 weeks. We lived in this crap apartment, no heat. No real bed. Just a blanket and a couch. We took turns. Hell, shared the blanket if it we could see our breath.” He said, smiling suddenly. He seemed to be elsewhere. Lost somewhere in a time Tony could only imagine. 

“Didn’t have real glass windows, just these boarded up…”

He looked across at Tony, his face losing the cloud that had hung over it. He blinked owlishly. He sat up straighter. “Sorry. I was just…”

Leah smiled. “Sharing a memory. That’s allowed.”

Tony felt as if every nerve in his body had placed on alert. He took a shuddering breath and turned his irritation toward Leah. “I gotta tell you lady. I’m not sure how this is helping. So far I’ve been punched in the face, had to drive his useless ass home,” he said jerking a thumb towards Cap, “But how in the fuck is this gonna help me do my job better?”

Leah cut him off sharply. “By listening, Mr. Stark. By trying to understand where your partner is coming from.”

He huffed indignantly. “He’s not my…”

“We cannot change the past, Tony. We can only learn how our past affected our decisions, and how to go forward from here. I cannot change what happened between you and the Captain. I can help you become cordial again.”

Tony growled, and looked down at Cap, who again seemed interested in his beloved shoe. 

Tony laid his head back against the seat. It smelled like old, slightly musty. Probably like Steve smelled out of a shower. Musty and filled with self-righteousness. 

“Cordial,” he repeated with his eyes closed. He and Pepper were cordial. It sucked balls. He took a deep breath, and reopened his eyes. 

“I’m glad…” Tony found himself saying. 

Cap arched an eyebrow.  
“I’m glad that someone was there for you.”He coughed and glanced back at the clock. “I’ve been alone. No one should be alone,” he added softly. 

**  
“Why are you calling me Steve?” Cap asked, around a mouthful of Taco Bell. Tony winced, and flipped on his blinker for a left turn. 

Tony did not reply, but got into the turn lane, and threw a middle finger at a passing truck who sprayed slush and snow across the bottom of his SUV. 

“What?” he asked, and pushed the pedal down through a stale yellow light.

“Cap, Capsicle, Rogers, Captain America. Hey you.” Steve said, casting a glance out at the passing traffic and snow, the oncoming traffic lights reflecting across his face. 

“Why am I giving you a ride home again?” Tony asked, upping the speed of the windshield wipers. They squealed a little in irritation and he knew he should get Happy to look at them.

Steve frowned, and bit deeply into a bean burrito. He swiped a napkin across his face quickly. “Because it’s snowing and I would be a moronic jack ass not to accept your incredible offer of generosity that I in no way deserve, and really shouldn’t I own a damned car by now? For God’s sake am I ever going to figure out this century, or do you need to buy me a bus schedule?” Cap said repeating the speech Tony had given him not even 20 minutes before in the garage. 

“You do need a bus schedule, “Tony muttered, skidding slightly into a turn. Cap’s shoulder bumped his before he could correct.  
“  
I take the train, Tony. Every day.”

“You called me Tony.” The yellowed lights of the motel could be seen coming up on the right. 

Cap shrugged and looked back at the passing traffic. “So I did.”

They pulled into the same little sad motel, and Tony wondered again about bed bugs. Could the super serum prevent bed bugs? Would they be so overwhelmed by American pride and testosterone that they would flee Cap’s body before an infestation?

Cap unfastened his seat belt, and grabbed his dinner, stuffing another burrito in his mouth as he exited. His feet sloshed when they hit the ground, and he zipped up his hoody and started to close the door. 

“It’s different.”

Cap didn’t close the door, but waited. He knew what Tony was referring to. 

“We’re different, Cap. You and me…we are not the same,” Tony said, casting his eyes around the parking lot light cast in a harsh yellow light. The same sad looking ice machine roared to life, and Tony wondered how someone with Steve’s hearing could tolerate that kind of noise. 

Steve hadn’t left and Tony finally met his eyes. “No, we are not the same.” Cap said agreeing and starting to slam the door, but stopped long enough to smile. “Maybe you can tell me about Maria sometime. I...uh…I never had the pleasure.” He looked up the at the sky. “Gonna snow again I think.”

Tony shook his head. “You’re like a 90 year old man updating me with the weather channel every 10 minutes.”

Cap shook his head. “Well, I better go. Cockroaches might miss me, “ he smirked, and slammed the door. Tony said nothing as Cap disappeared inside his room again.

“Not as much as the bed bugs,” he said, swiftly driving out of the parking lot.  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****************  
> Kind of a filler chapter, short, but just poking along. I appreciate your kind comments and kudos and wish you all a happy holidays. Flaws are mine . I know, not perfect but I am enjoying myself. 
> 
>  
> 
> And if you ain't having fun, then get the heck out of dodge, people. There is a back button if you hate it. Either way...happy holidays and I wish you well.


	5. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk, talk, talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Sorry about the chapter confusion. I just reread it and decided the original posting wasn't the direction I wanted to go and rewrote the chapter. The beginning is the same. 
> 
> Yes. I am odd and have issues with commitment. Ha ha. 
> 
> Again. I am not a therapist and I still like both characters. This is just for fun. 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day! Well, belated.

*********

“Do you trust him?” Leah asked suddenly, sitting forward in her chair. She pushed back at her bangs, and focused totally on Tony. 

“No,” Tony said, wincing at his own hoarse voice. 

Steve remained silent, but sat forward, folding his hands between his knees. He shifted again and scratched a hand through his almost shaggy hair. His eyes finally locked back on the floor, but Tony could see the tenseness in his shoulders. 

“Can you tell me why?”

Tony thought of the video, of Steve’s face as he confessed. He remembered his own rage boiling inside his veins, and Cap dropping the shield as he walked away. 

“I know why,” Steve said, unexpectedly sitting up straighter, eyes turning to meet Tony’s. He met his gaze unwaveringly. 

Leah tapped Steve’s knee, but his eyes didn’t leave Tony’s. 

“Tell me why he doesn’t trust you.”

Steve cleared his throat, and shifted. He pulled at his dark sweater as if it were too tight. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. His face turned back to Leah. “I knew about Howard and Maria. I sat on that.” 

“He doesn’t trust me either,” Tony said, surprising himself. “The accords were a disaster. Ultron was a disaster.” He rolled his eyes. His whole fucking life was disaster. 

Leah stood, and moved to sit in between them on the couch. “So we need to ask ourselves if we want to build that trust again…or do we want to move on.”

Tony felt his stomach drop. He tried to catch Steve’s eyes but they were focused on the wall in front of him. 

“The Avengers are needed,” Steve said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “Failure is not an option.”

Leah looked back and forth between them. “I’m not talking about failure of the Avengers. But the friendship of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark? Totally unnecessary.”

“Lady, what the hell?” Tony started, but the finger of doom went up. 

“You’re both intelligent, resourceful men who have run companies and commanded men in battle. You can’t tell me you’ve liked every employee or soldier you’ve ever met,” she said, leaning back. She stretched her legs out before her, looking as if she were making herself at home. 

“This is not the same,” Tony said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. He clamped it down with a deep breath. 

“It is the same. I believe you both could work on a professional level without the need for friendship.”

Tony looked down at Steve again. His eyes were closed, his face flushed. 

“Fuck. I don’t think she’s wrong,” Tony said, deflating. He leaned forward and covered his face in his hands. This was so fucking stupid. He didn’t need this. Rogers hated him. There was little he could do to change that.

There was silence in the room, except for the ticking clock. Curiosity won out, and he uncovered his face to meet blue eyes staring at him in shock.  
Steve looked a little like a kicked puppy, not so much the pillar of American masculinity. His mouth opened and closed resembling a goldfish in a bowl. 

“Oh, please. Rogers, you were thinking the same thing. And close your mouth. You look like you need CPR.”

His mouth clacked shut audibly and a full on Captain America, “I am so indignant about the lack of righteousness in this situation I will have to rescue a puppy” glare was back in full force. “Unacceptable.”

Tony flounced dramatically, rocking the couch back. “Are you kidding me, Cap? Are you serious? How is that not a reasonable solution? You win, I win, the world,“ he said gesturing around the room dramatically to encompass it, “wins.”

Steve was clearly trying to maintain some kind of composure, the little vein in his left temple was throbbing. “No.”

“Cap. I know you did things different in the 40’s, but here we use whole sentences.”

Leah, who Tony had all but forgotten, agreed and Steve growled. “No. No, this is not why we are here. The Avengers need to be a cohesive unit. That involves bonding in friendship, having the other guys back when they need it.”

“You’re not listening. We can operate efficiently without friendship. We can stick to work, keep this professional. No need to intermingle the personal with the business side, Cap. I’ve done this with teams at Stark industries…”

“That’s not enough,” Steve spit out, startling Tony. “It can’t be. I…don’t have that many people, Stark. You…the team? That’s what I have left.”

Tony blinked and could feel his own cheeks color. “Shit.’”

He glanced at Leah who looked as if she had expected this very conversation.

“We’ll start small. If one needs a small favor, the other provides it. If one needs a proverbial ear, we will provide it. Maybe even smaller. Do what you say! Follow through. And most of all try for honesty. Small gestures lead to big rewards.”  
**  
They pulled up to Steve’s motel, Steve balancing a bag of Chinese takeout they had picked up on the drive. “You want to come in?”

Tony scowled. “Not even remotely.” He flipped through a few texts from Pepper, intending to ignore him until he got out. But the car door stayed stubbornly closed. 

Steve sighed. “Tony…just...” he looked up at the car ceiling and then brought his gaze back to Tony’s. “Just…. Eat Chinese with me.”

Tony looked down at the key in the ignition. He should go home. He knew he should go home. This was stupid. 

He switched the ignition off and climbed out to the truck. Steve looked weirdly determined, his face set in full on serious mode. It made him roll his eyes, but he quickly found himself inside…the shittiest hotel room known to man. 

“What. The. Fuck,” he said, taking in the yellow sallow décor. Two double beds covered by a comforter that Mrs. Brady had picked out covered each. There was one sink, a toilet and a shower immediately adjacent.  
The carpet was…shit brown and probably covered in…

Steve set down the Chinese food on the small table in the room. He quickly set up paper dishes, and cups, and set coffee to brew in the super disgusting coffee maker that came with the room. Tony eyed it speculatively. 

Steve gestured to an open chair and Tony sat down slowly. “I need to call Pepper. I can’t remember the last time I had a tetanus shot.”

“It’s not that bad.” Steve said and opened container after container and the sweet and almost sticky smell of Chinese permeated and overpowered the damp, sallow smell that seemed to hang in the room. Five minutes later they both had hot cups of coffee and were silently chowing down on sesame chicken and some sort of ribs. They weren’t half bad Tony thought as he licked a thumb covered in sauce. Steve had turned on the TV and an old episode of MacGyver played in the background. 

Steve’s eyes kept shifting between the TV and Tony. He hadn’t eaten much, but his coffee was half gone, and he squeezed and released his napkin at shifting intervals. 

Tony took a deep drink of coffee and eyed his host. “What’s with the hippy hair do, Rogers?”

Steve, who had his fork halfway to his mouth, looked confused. “It’s a little longer than normal.”

“I can recommend a barber. Hell, I’ll pay for it if I don’t have to look at that mop on top of your head for the next few months.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why are you so worried about my hair?” He wrapped a noodle up in his fork, and jabbed it into his mouth. 

“Not really a lot to talk about here. Topics are limited."He couldn’t help the exhaustion that cracked his voice. He set his coffee down, watching as it spilled over. 

“We can find something.” Steve said, ducking his head down. He poked at his plate, and the grease spread a little further out toward the rim. 

“And what’s with the weight loss?” he said, cocking his head to the side. Steve’s face was getting fuller again, but still seemed leaner than it had in the past.  
Steve heaved a sigh and laid his head down on the table beside his plate. “Tony.”

“You have money. I helped you invest it. What’s with the vagabond lifestyle?” he asked gesturing around the room. 

“Did you see the game last night?” Steve asked sitting up, he crossed his arms across his chest. He looked annoyed, but no more than usual annoyed Steve. 

“What game?” Tony asked, reaching over and grabbing a napkin. He qickly scrubbed at his hands wondering when he could go home.

“Any game. Any game in the whole world. Soccer, football, baseball?” Steve said, sipping at his coffee. “I don’t care which one.”

Tony paused and watched him. Steve arched an eyebrow. “The red and blue won. Made my whole night. Can I go home now?”

“You can go home whenever you want,” Steve said, exasperation beginning to color his voice. He looked back at the TV. 

“I like that guy,” he said, unexpectedly. The screen showed MacGyver using chewing gum and chocolate bars to defeat some sort of villain of the day. Steve smiled and watched in silence.  
“  
Yeah. He’s ok,” Tony said, rising and moving to stand between the two beds. He watched as Macgyver made eyes at his lady friend, and watched as Steve looked surprisingly invested. 

“He reminds me of you,” Steve said, not looking away from the TV. His arms were leaned forward, his hand crossed across his knees. He looked a little embarrassed at the admission.  
Tony sat down on what appeared to be the open bed. He laid back against the headboard and crossed his knees at ankle.

“You should take your shoes off…”

Tony cut him off immediately. “Rogers, I will burn in hell before I expose my feet to the amount of dirt, human skin cells, sperm, and human repulsiveness on this floor.”

Tony heard a low chuckle. “Fair enough.”

Tony looked back at the screen, and neither spoke as MacGyver worked on saving humanity once again.  
**

The episode ended, and Tony decided to call it a night.

“What was she like?” Steve asked quietly. His longer than normal hair was almost hanging in his eyes. 

“Who?” 

Steve didn’t reply. Tony brought his legs over the side of the bed, and looked at himself in a cracked mirror. Steve met his eyes in the glass.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Oh. My mother…,” Tony said. “She smelled like Elizabeth Arden. When he…” He could see her soft white hair hung down around her shoulders, leaned against him, laughing into his neck. 

Tony took a shuddering breath. “When he drank…he...” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what he did. She was there. She would wrap me up in a blanket. She did this thing…” he said, smiling at the memory. 

“She would run her hand through my hair. It was curly, so her hands always got caught in a tangle.” He couldn’t help but mimic the motion. Sunlight, her soft laugh. Her hands so gentle as they passed over his face. 

He laughed, but it felt hollow. “She would say Antonio, I love you like the sun loves the Earth. In the light and the dark, in the sun and the shade. I love you forever and always.”

He stopped. He had never told anyone that, not even Pepper. He flushed again and stood. He was surprised at the raw feeling in his chest. 

He looked back at Steve, but dropped the eye contact suddenly struck by self consciousness. Which never happened. Like ever. “Jesus. I’m becoming maudlin, Cap.”

Steve said nothing and began picking up dishes, throwing food in the trash. “I was thinking about favors.” He stood as he said it not looking at Tony. 

Tony froze but watched Steve as he moved around the room, throwing away plates, cleaning out the coffee filter. “I…I’ve been spending a lot of time alone,” he said, heading for the sink and quickly washing his hands. He grabbed a hand towel and turned back toward Tony, leaning against the wall. He tossed the hand towel behind him. He kept his eyes downcast. 

“I…wouldn’t mind some company,” Steve said. He looked up slowly, catching Tony’s eye. “You know. For dinner. Or maybe a cup of coffee.”

Tony sighed. He shouldn’t even be here. He should be at home, in his lab. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. 

He glanced around the shitty hotel. 

“Seriously. I can hear the fucking bed bugs.”

Steve groaned. “Stark…”

Tony grabbed his keys from his pocket. “Honestly. I’m like royalty, how do you not get this?”

Steve stood and began pushing him toward the door. Tony resisted, digging in his heels as Steve pushed. “There are protocols. I’m very highly regarded. You should probably bow.”

“I will see you at the next session, Stark,“ Steve said, pushing him out the door. 

Tony paused at the threshold. “Leah said favors and you’re throwing me out of your shit hotel room?”

Steve arched an eyebrow. Tony couldn’t help the light feeling that filled his mind. He looked back at Steve. 

“Why are we really doing this? I keep asking, and no one seems to know.” Tony said, looking down at his hands. He could feel Steve watching him, but just admired his everything is bigger in Texas key chain.  
Steve stopped. Paused. Stood straighter. “Tony.”

Tony felt his stomach drop. His heart pounded, and he met the azure blue gaze. Steve looked down, and back up. His hands were restless at his side. He reached forward unexpectedly and zipped Tony’s jacket. 

“Sometimes things fall apart so better things can fall together,” Steve said, his hand remaining on the zipper. He looked up from under his lashes. Tony blinked owlishly. 

His phone rang abruptly, the sound of Aerosmith filling the air and ending the moment. He breathed deeply and shoved back, opening the door, and heading for his car. He never looked back as he slid the answer button across. 

“Sourpatch. It’s been too long.”  
By the time he had started the truck up, the door had been closed, the drab curtains drawn. 

“How much have you missed me?” he said as he pulled out of the lot.


	6. Colds and favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony asks for a favor. And stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. Still like Steve. Still like Tony. Ha ha.   
> I got laid off this week, so yay! Ha ha. You guys are like my confessional. Wine is delicious BTW  
> 

**  
Two days later Tony found himself pulled up outside Steve’s hotel. The room was dark, but he could see the flickering of the TV in the window. He looked at his dash clock and winced. It was three am. As usual, he had not noticed what time it was. Rhodey had told him time and time again that he needed to watch things like time, and be responsible enough to not wake others…God. Even Rhodey’s past lectures made him want to doze off. He shook his head and forced himself to turn off the car. 

Favors. He could ask for favors. They were friends? OK. Not friends. More like super heroes arch enemy slash people who once lived together? In a giant tower. 

Jesus. He probably should have just gone to bed. He rubbed a hand across his gritty eyes, and climbed out of the vehicle, slammed the door behind him. His skin was clammy, and his throat was raw. He would be fine. He just needed to shake it off. And now he was quoting Taylor Swift. That was a good sign. 

He paused before continuing, and looked down at his keys. The number on the door was still crooked and the paint still chipped. The curtains were drawn but he could see the flickering of a television light.  
He stood in front of the room for a minute, and then tapped lightly at the door, pushing out a deep breath, forcing some brevity into his stance. 

There was a pause where he could hear shuffling in the room, and the door swung open to reveal Steve in plaid pajama bottoms, barefoot, and a tshirt declaring his love of Dale Earnhardt. It was loose at the neck, the elastic all stretched out and he wondered if Steve had ever seen a NASCAR race in his life. 

He rubbed again at his eyes and couldn’t help the smile that split his face. Steve had gotten a haircut. A military style, two-inch barber shop, Army recruit headed for boot camp ridiculous haircut. He looked around 18 even with a few day’s worth of stubble. 

“Finally decided to sign back up. Fury is making you go through boot camp since the last time you went they were still using cannons and horses? And you wore that blue uniform, right? Union will take it this time." Tony asked leaning against the door. He chuckled at his own sharp wit. Damn. He was funny. 

Steve looked sleepy and perplexed. “Tony? What are you doing here?” he asked, looking past him into the parking lot. His eyes came back to Tony and he blinked repeatedly, rubbing a hand over his newly shorn scalp. “Did I miss a call?”

Tony held his hands up. “No. I just…I need help with something,” he said, watching Steve closely. Steve rubbed a hand over his shorn head and yawned widely. He leaned heavily against the door jam. The TV continued behind him and he could hear the canned laughter of a sitcom at level low enough not to bother anyone else. Steve could sleep anywhere, anytime. Tony envied that of him. 

Steve bit his lip and looked back at his room. “OK. Give me a minute. I’ll meet you in the car.”

 

**  
Less than 10 minutes later Tony and Steve were headed for Queens. Steve was doing his favorite impression of Clark Kent with a hat and glasses, a had dark hoody pulled up over his head. 

He flipped through the file Tony had handed him. He frowned and looked at Tony. “I am not trying to look like Clark Kent. I am just trying to blend in.”

Damn, Tony was tired. He was having trouble controlling his inner monologue again. He sneezed as they turned a corner and Steve’s gaze sharpened. 

“You getting sick?”

He was silent as they pulled in behind an empty bank where a red clad Spider Man stood pacing back and forth behind the building. The windows behind him were still intact and it looked to be empty. Three men were tied up on the sidewalk, as Peter jogged toward them. 

Tony said nothing but he could fee Steve stiffen beside him. 

“You should’ve left him where he was. He didn’t need to be involved in all this,” Steve said gruffly. Tony could see Peter headed toward them and felt a strong sense of pride. The kid was doing alright. This was almost immediately stifled by the urge to push Steve out of the car. 

He shot him a look and snarled. “The kid with the super powers? The kid that was running around in an unprotected onesie until I came along? The kid who had no back up at all until I found him?”

“The teenager that should be studying and worrying about prom not protecting anyone but himself,” Steve snapped, reaching up to pull off his hat.  
Tony swatted his hand away from the hat. “Really You’re going to bring out that embarrassment of a haircut now?”

Steve flushed and looked decidedly pained. “This kid needs protecting, not back up!”

“He’s going to act. I’m not going to let him without help! He’s a kid! You think I’ll leave him out to be eaten by wolves? We are in a position to help,” he was shouting at this point, and Steve scoffed.

“So this was all out of the bottom of your heart?” Steve shouted back, yanking at his seat belt and it ripped out of the door. He winced at his own strength. 

“Can you relax, King Kong,” Tony yelled, grabbing the now broken seat belt from Steve’s hand. 

There was an unexpected soft cough. “Hi guys.”

Steve and Tony both jumped. Steve’s face flushed a deep red, but Tony flashed an immediate grin. He wasn’t unaccustomed to trying to save face. “Hey, kid.”

Peter sat in the back-seat sans mask. His face was scratched in several places and his hair totally damp with sweat, curling around his ears. His eyes kept going to the various buttons installed above his head, not that interested in the men in front of him. The car had been installed with every upgrade Stark money could buy and Tony really couldn’t blame him. 

“Captain. It’s good to see you again,” he said nodding briefly at the passenger seat. He shifted around, pulling off the top of his outfit to reveal cuts and bruises. 

“Mr. Stark. Thanks for coming,” he added more quietly, swiping at a drop of sweat rolling down his cheek. He winced as he shifted. “You guys have any trouble finding me?”

Tony turned from Steve’s angry gaze and faced the back seat. He took a deep breath and tried to force a smile. “No, we found you. You ok?”

Steve exited through the passenger door and slipped in beside Peter. He began checking him over, pushing Peter’s head back slowly to consider his eyes. He used his other hand to press gently down Peter’s ribs, asking him questions quietly. 

“Does it hurt here? How deep is this cut?” Steve pushed his left arm out of the way for a closer look. 

Peter attempted to shove Steve’s hand’s away, trying to cover some of his wounds and bruises as if embarrassed.

“I’m usually better than this. I was having an off night.”

Tony reached back and clasped his knee in his hand to still him. Peter froze and locked his eyes on Tony’s.

“Hold still, underoos. We just want to make sure you’re ok,” he said softly, with a squeeze. Cap was a pretty experienced medic not to mention someone with their own super healing abilities. If there was anything to worry about he would find it. 

“I’m fine. These will be gone in three hours,” Peter said and looked up, and removed the panel from the ceiling above him. The circuitry came with it. He pulled at a yellow wire, and began to totally detach it from the ceiling. It was as if Steve weren’t even beside him.

“Hey, Junior? Can you not take my car apart?” Tony said, grabbing for the circuit board. Peter smiled sheepishly and handed it gently over. “Sorry, Mr. Stark. Just curious.”

“He’s fine, “Tony said throwing a look at Steve who glowered back. The tension that had disappeared had slowly began to return. 

“Oh, yeah. He’s what, 17? He knows exactly what he’s in for,” Cap said, continuing a slow investigation of his patient. His patient who now looked distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Oh fuck off, Rogers. You weren’t much older than that when you let Dad hulk you out,” Tony said, turning back around and starting the car. He looked in the rear view mirror and met Peter’s eyes. “Why did you call me? You said you needed help.”

Peter winced. “Well, not help exactly. Four bank robbers and a child hostage is really not that difficult for me to deal with,” Peter added, watching Steve examine his wounds. 

Steve and Tony both froze. Peter smiled again. This time he looked like he was grinning for a school portrait. His eyes shot back and forth between the two men. 

“I’m just kind of…you know. Well,” he said quickly. His smiled was on the verge of splitting his face at that point. 

Tony looked back again. “And you need me because…”

Peter shrugged and looked back and forth between them. “I…uh. Well. There’s a diner on 4th Street. You can get day old pie for 50% off.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “So. You called me because you were hungry?” His eyeball was pulsating. People can’t have pulsating eyebrows. He knew he’d read that somewhere. It was bad for you. Maybe National Geographic. Sweet Jesus he was so tired he wanted to puke. 

Pete’s smiled faltered. “I just thought maybe we could grab a bite?”

His voice was oddly hesitant and he was focused on his hands on his lap. 

Tony met Steve’s eyes in the rearview. The tension seeped out of the car as quickly as it had come. 

“Sure,” Steve said clasping Pete’s shoulder. 

**  
Tony found himself squished in to a reasonably clean sparkly red, vinyl booth. Steve was beside him with one giant arm constantly bumping against his own. They both sipped coffee and watched as Peter swallowed food like it would disappear before he finished. He’d eaten three sets of pancakes, two helpings of eggs, half the burger Steve had ordered, and Tony’s milkshake. The waitress and cook had both been out to watch the spectacle, but Peter seemed oblivious. 

“So anyway. They call me Spider Kid. You know how that gets to me,” he adds, dipping a handful of Steve’s fries in his ketchup and swallowing several. 

“You’re doing ok. Don’t worry about what others are saying,” Tony said and gestured for the waitress to bring more coffee. He was quiet as he began top off both their cups. His head was really beginning to throb, and his sinuses felt like they’d been filled with warm cement. 

Steve watched him from the corner of his eyes. “Do you have any tea? My friend could use tea. Honey if you have it. Maybe chicken noodle soup?,” he said with a smile. Most women couldn’t resist a smile from Cap and she was no exception. 

She smiled a tired but friendly grin. “Be right back.”

“I hate tea. And I hate chicken noodle soup,” Tony growled, but leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. God, he was so tired. He watched pedestrians stroll by and wished he was at home in his own  
bed. 

“You ok, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, and Tony looked up flashed him a half hearted grin. 

“Always.”

A few minutes later a chipped mug with a Lipton tea bag was set down in front of him. He growled and took a sip. “Tea sucks. Just like you, Rogers.”

Steve sighed deeply and tapped Tony’s mug indicating for him to drink again. 

“But I got the little girl out. Gave her to her mom,” Peter said eyes darting between them both. “I didn’t think I would make it in time. I thought he would drop her,” He added, pausing before he stuffed another fry in his mouth. His eyes dropped back to his plate. 

Steve reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “You did well. She was lucky you were there.”

Pete flushed under the praise, squirming in his seat and Tony was again struck by how young he was. No lines of worry, or tired and weary shoulders. Just a tough kid that had taken on the world. 

“You done good, kiddo,” Tony said and yawned loudly. “I keep yawning. It’s weird since it hasn’t been that long since I slept. And who knew allergies were this big of an issue in winter?”

“Boss, you have not slept in 72 hrs and 17 minutes. Also, you are not allergic to anything,” Friday piped up. She was supremely helpful. He’d delete her when she got home. Delete her and start over with a new AI. Name it Tony Junior and it would never, ever disagree with him. 

He could feel Steve’s disapproval like a cloak settle down over the table. Even Peter looked up from his blueberry pie to watch them both.

“Spare me the lecture, Cap. Einstein slept three hours a year. Or five. Yeah, I have no idea. He slept. We all sleep. You slept for 70 years,” Tony said, yawning again.

He’d get some sleep tomorrow. He just had a few adjustments on the Mark…whatever the fuck he was on, and a 3 o’clock meeting with Pepper and the board. Only about 55 emails that would need some attention and a voicemail from Fury that he would have to answer soon. 

Shit, the glass in the window felt fantastic he thought and watched his breath fog the glass. It was going to be another long night

**

Tony was slumped in the passenger seat, rubbing at his eyes. The seat warmer was on soothing his aching back and lulling him to sleep. Morning rush hour traffic was backed up from the freeway. Not too many horns, just slow moving progress and the red of tail lights. The morning DJ had been shut off already by Steve. He’d mumbled something about women’s rights and turned it off. 

Pete had gone somewhere. Tony was sure of it. 

Steve was fond of Sirius and found a station playing something old and slow. Tony leaned his head against the seat, and closed his eyes. He yawned and tucked his head into the seat and blinked sleepily at Steve. The sun was just beginning to rise, but the air still remained surprisingly quiet. 

Steve glanced over at him and smiled. “Not tired?”

“Not at all,” Tony mumbled. He didn’t fight it when his eyes closed. “I’m cold though. Turn up the heat, Capsicle.”

He felt something warm surround him and blinked his eyes open to yawn at Steve’s coat now draped over him. 

He glowered. “I don’t want your coat.” His eyes drifted shut again and Steve chuckled softly. The soft hiss of the heater picked up speed. 

“Get some sleep, Tony,” he said quietly. 

“I got this, Cap. I don’t need you,” he mumbled, turning and pulling the coat further over himself. the window was beginning to irritate him so he pushed farther back in the seat. 

“I run a big company ya know. And I handled every world fucking crisis til you came back.”

He scowled. “Ok. There weren’t that many.”

“I’m here now. You don’t have to do anything on your own, ok?”

“You can have the company, Cap. I’m pretty tired. I need to retire. I’d give you Pepper, but I think she might get pissed,” he added with a yawn again. His head felt fuzzy. Steve had insisted on a stop at a drug store where he’d loaded Tony down with some sort of Quil. Day Quil? Ny Quil? It was green. He hated green. Well, he liked the hulk. He was green. 

“We all like Bruce,” Steve added. “And I don’t want your company.”

Dammit. He would deal with all of this in 15 minutes. He just needed a power nap. Power nap. 

“Wake me in 15, Cap. And no more driving my cars. This is a one time thing.” 

Steve sighed. “Ok, Tony. 15 minutes. But you just rest. No more talking.”

Tony wanted to shoot him a glare. And he would. In 15 minutes. Hell fire would rain down in 15 minutes. 

“I’ll be waiting on the hellfire,” Steve said, but his voice sounded far away. And Tony drifted off.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking. And maybe cuddles. :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi- hope everyone is well. Moving so things are a little insane. Always grateful for anyone still hanging in there with me. :-)
> 
> Are we near a holiday? How about happy May? Happy May.

It had been a long week. Two visits from a concierge doctor where he’d been poked and prodded and medicine injected and pushed down his throat. Normally he put up more of a fight, but he had felt so shitty that even he had been willing to tolerate the doctor. The mansion had been blessedly quiet and he’d taken the time to rest. Friday had seemed almost surprised by his cooperation. She kept trying to anticipate him bolting or refusing to be corralled away from the lab. But he had taken his medicine when she notified him it was time, and he’d slept more than he had slept in years. 

The oddest part was rolling out of bed for soup or tea (Rogers had won that round) to find Steve reading the paper on his couch the morning he’d been dropped off. 

Tony’d been indignant, but Steve had looked genuinely concerned. “You weren’t making sense by the time I dropped you off. I couldn’t leave you like that.” Steve had flushed a deep red, but there had been no hesitation. No nagging sense of guilt. Just a feeling that Steve had stayed because he’d been worried.

So he’d taken his Nyquil and quickly buried himself under every blanket on his bed.

He rubbed his brow and rolled his shoulders. The cold had begun to recede, but the lingering aching muscles and cough were still unpleasant. OK. And he might still have a small fever. But he could breathe without effort and sleep without medication so he was calling it a win. 

He stretched deeply and crossed his legs out in front of him. Just barely not nudging Steve, who sat stiffly in front of him looking uncomfortable. Tony tapped him with his foot which earned him a frown. 

“You volunteered to go first, Cap,” Tony said. 

“You won the coin toss. That hardly constitutes a choice,” Cap said with a deepening frown. He was scratching his thumb against the back of the couch, face set in complete Stone. They were turned to face each other, their arms stretched along the back of the couch. 

Cap looked back at Thea. “This is...”

“Horrible,” Tony finished for him which earned him a quirk of the lip from Steve. 

They were playing the gratitude game. They were alternating things they admired, or appreciate about the other. It was supposed to build up their confidence in one another. Make them feel like they were supported. Or, as Tony thought of it, waste time saying meaningless platitudes to make their therapist happy so that he could go back to fucking work which is all he fucking wanted anyway. 

Leah smiled her serene smile, oblivious to the glare Tony was now sporting. In her direction. 

Steve looked like he’d swallowed something horrible. Tony imagined men from the 40’s didn’t spend a lot of time vocalizing their adoration at each other. His mind went to Howard. He tried to imagine his father sitting down with one of his business partners for a heart to heart about their feelings. He was not successful. 

Steve looked resigned but met Tony’s eyes. “I appreciate your technical expertise in the field, and with the team.”

Tony nodded. This wasn’t going to be so bad. He’d get a few compliments, maybe leave with a stroked ego. He was never opposed to that. And he was a genius so Steve was at least right about that. 

“Very good. Tony?” Leah asked looking at him expectantly.

“Cap, I am grateful that you are a good leader in the field. We made it out of some tight spots because of you.” He meant that. They would have been fucked so many times without Steve’s sharp eyes. See? He could be nice. He was nice. Dammit. 

“I appreciate your humor. I don’t always understand it, but I like that you keep things light,” Steve said, with a sigh. It didn’t make him mad. They both wanted this done. 

“I appreciate that you appreciate my humor,” Tony said. There. That was an easy one. He smiled winningly. 

Steve scoffed and looked back at Leah. “That’s not…that’s not a thing he can appreciate.” Then he looked unsure. “Is it?”

“Well, it may not be…”

He turned back to Tony with a frown. “I appreciate your lack of ego. You’re very modest,” Steve drawled. 

Tony crossed his arms across his chest. “I appreciate your fashion sense. It’s not every man that can pull off wearing a shirt three sizes too small.”

“Gentleman.”

“I am grateful that you are so free with your opinions. How would I know I needed things like haircuts, or if my weight wasn’t up to par if you weren’t there to tell me?” Steve added with a tilt of his head. 

“Speaking of haircuts…” Tony began, but was cut off by Leah. 

“OK. We’re getting off track here…”

“I appreciate that you finally showed the world that Captain America isn’t perfect. Not every man would be willing to show that the top of his head is oblong by shaving it that close.” He grinned. “No really. That’s a great cut. Think I saw it on the cover of Vogue.”

Steve’s eyes sparkled. “I appreciate that you finally stopped wearing lifts. It’s good to see you finally embraced being short.”

Tony was surprised by the burst of laughter from his belly. It felt good as it had been a long few days. He didn’t mind being short. Well, sometimes he didn’t.  
He started, “I am grateful…”

_“Gentlemen.”_

Steve glanced at Leah following the reprimand in her voice. His face softened and he went back to looking at his finger scratching the couch. 

“If we could get back on track,” Leah added, picking up her green tea to sip at. She eyed them both over the top of the mug. 

He mentally checked himself and returned to being serious. Which sucked. He hated being serious. Tony coughed and reached for his bottled water and took a long, long swig. 

He looked back at Steve in his faded jeans, and old sweatshirt. His short hair and his new beard. Living in a shit motel instead of staying at SHIELD, or hell, asking to be at the tower. The guy who ate Taco Bell, and watched MacGyver reruns.

“Thanks for driving me home the other day. And staying. I was surprised you stayed,” he added, wincing almost immediately. Why did he say that? “No one stays.” Jesus. What the fuck was wrong with him? It was the damn cold pills. Ok, so he’d forgotten to take them. But clearly he was still affected. 

Steve blinked back at him seriously, as if trying to understand what Tony was saying.

“Of course I stayed. You needed someone.”

Tony felt his ire rise, and his face flush. “You left me before.” His pulse began to pound again, and he could feel it in his throat. He’d walked right into this. Again. They would never get past this. 

Steve shifted forward, shaking his head, and putting up his hands in defense. “You’re right. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

But his temper was back. He was mad. He was tired. He was sick. This fucking therapy hadn’t done anything except make him feel worse. His headache was returning. With a vengeance. It slammed against his temples and he closed his eyes against the onslaught. 

“I’m…uh…” He felt sweat break out on his brow. “I wanted to keep this as a joke,” he stated simply. Nausea was quickly making him dizzy. He knew his breathing was out of control, he just couldn’t seem to reel it in. Hyperventilating. Hold your breath. Count to five. 

Out the window was a spring down pour. It was easier to look outside, easier to direct his gaze elsewhere. Easier to ignore the new thrumming in his veins. It pounded in time with his heart. 

He took a raw, ragged breath and felt Leah’s hand on his wrist. She was talking, but he it sounded as if she were underwater, or at a distance. She was standing beside him. When had that happened?  
He rubbed a hand across his temple and dizzyingly rose to his feet pushing away from her. “I can’t do this today,” he said. “This is a waste of time.”

He strode purposefully toward the door, only stumbling once which he complimented himself on. This sudden and unexpected panic attack was going surprisingly well, he thought with a giggle. He bumbled onto the elevator and repeatedly slapped the basement button. Wait. 

He could vaguely hear Steve call after him but pushed the garage button and closed his eyes. He rested his head against the closed doors. Fuck. 

When the door dinged he opened his eyes to find himself in some sort of very large room full of filing cabinets. There were metal cages around them, but open at the top. The room smelled like must and damp, basement smells. 

He stumbled forward and slid down a wall to his left. It was cool here, and he could hear the rain pounding and he focused on the sound. It was rhythmic, staccato even. His chest began to loosen. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he said and scratched at the cement beneath him. It was dirty and he looked at the new dirt that had collected under his nail. 

A door popped open beside him with an exit sign above it, flickering in the dark. He continued breathing heavily, wheezing with every other breath. He watched as Steve slowly stepped through the door, out of the stairwell. He held up his hands like a white flag and Tony waved a hand at him dismissively. “I’m ok. I’m ok. Just a little panic attack.”

“Shellshock. Is what we always called it,” Cap said quietly, squatting down in front of him. His eyes searched Tony’s face, but Tony looked back at the dirty window. Feet passing by in the street. Steve’s knees never creaked. Tony’s knees sounded like microwave popcorn bag when he squatted. 

“Have you always had panic attacks?”

He dropped his head down to his chest. “Since New York. I thought I was over it.” The black hole. Being swallowed and falling. 

“And then Siberia,” Steve said softly. He ducked his head and flexed his fingers. 

His eyes followed a crack on the floor and traced it up the wall with a frown. “This seems safe.”

Tony clasped his own knees and nodded brusquely. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” he reiterated. 

Steve shuffled until he was sitting beside him. He sat slowly down, pushing his legs out in front of him. He crossed his knees at the ankle and leaned his head back against the wall. “So…you think they have files on us down here?” he asked looking at the caged walls covering boxes of boxes of files on old metal shelves. 

“Maybe,” Tony said, counting each breath. It was starting to slow, and his heart didn’t feel like it would explode from his chest at any moment.

Steve’s arm was warm against him. His heart ached when he realized how long it had been since someone leaned into him. Pepper, probably. She’d always been touchy, a hugger even, and he missed it. He’d been so busy the last few months. Too busy to worry about touch, or lack thereof it. 

His heart hurt. He was scared. Tired. Lonely. 

He leaned into Steve absorbing the warmth. He felt Cap’s arm rise and fall across his back. He was pulled in and he didn’t fight. He just rested his forehead against Cap’s shoulder. He smelled like Old Spice, and crappy hotel. A smell he was finding extremely endearing these days.

Steve leaned his head against Tony’s and took a deep breath. “OK. You know what? We don’t go back up. You and me hit a diner. Or we could just drive around. Talk. Maybe you show me some movie I haven’t seen?”

Tony finally turned back to face him. Steve looked determined. Confident. Much more like the Cap Tony had first met before Loki. 

“But first you wanna tell me what happened up there?” Steve asked, gesturing at the ceiling. 

He looked Cap up and down. His friend. His enemy. His jailer, his relief. Steve was so many things. Childhood icon, his father’s greatest accomplishment. 

“Did you know that I don’t want to forgive you?” Tony asked, his voice surprisingly steady. His breath caught in his chest and his eyes watered. 

Steve shifted and pulled him in again. Pulled him in tighter. His warmth contrasted wonderfully against the cold concrete of the basement so Tony did not fight. His lips rested against Tony’s temple. “I know,” he said, his lips resting against Tony’s hair. He didn’t back up. Didn’t leave. He seemed content to hold him. 

“If I let this go. If I move on.” Tony said with a shuddering breath that quickly led to a coughing fit. It passed after a minute and Steve pulled Tony’s water bottle from his pocket and placed it in his hand. Tony took a long drink, and it soothed the constant tickle. 

“Did I ever tell you Sharon is Peggy’s niece?” Steve said, interrupting. He didn’t move away, just seemed to be settling in. His arm rubbed up and down Tony’s soothingly. 

He was caught off guard. “What?” 

“I took her on a date. We went for ice cream,” Cap said continuing to rub. “That place that’s been around since not long after me. Longer maybe?”

“Is your plan here to kill me with boredom?” Tony watched Cap’s hand as it traveled up and down his arm. 

“She ordered vanilla topped with cherries. That was always Peggy’s favorite.”

Tony leaned back and tried to meet his eyes, but Steve pulled him in again, tucking him under his chin. 

“So I’m sitting in this little ice cream shop in Brooklyn, watching my dead girlfriend’s niece eat the same ice cream she always ordered.”

“Are you from Kentucky? I thought you were from New York. I didn’t know keeping it in the family was so important to you,” Tony added stifling a yawn. The warmth of Steve versus the cold of the cement was intoxicating. 

Steve ignored him. “I felt like a fossil, sitting there watching her eat. A relic. She’s a beautiful girl. Sweet. But she makes me feel old.”

“You are old,” Tony said, as his head lolled over to Steve’s chest. He listened to the steady thump thump of his heart and closed his eyes. 

“You feel warm still,” Steve said, laying his head against Tony’s forehead. “I’m gonna take you home. Tomorrow you’re going to call a doctor. Again.”

“I’m a doctor.”

“I’m gonna call a doctor. One that isn’t you. You need to be looked at. Again,” he said, dragging a large warm through Tony’s hair. A small pet which Tony embarrassedly relished. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah,” Cap said, pulling Tony back against him so his back rested against Steve’s chest. The rain continued to pour. It didn’t look like it would lighten up anytime soon. His head was tucked under Steve’s chin. 

They both listened to the rain as it pounded against the small windows. People were few and far between, so the view was streetlight and water pounding.

“Your hair isn’t that bad,” Tony said, settling in. He crossed his arms over his chest and Steve wrapped him up in the arm that had been rubbing. His low chuckled rumbled against Tony’s back. 

“Thanks. How about we sit here for a bit? Let the rain pass?” Steve asked. “Take you home in bit.”

Tony closed his eyes. Focused on the sound of the rain and Steve’s warmth. 

“Ice cream is a terrible first date.”

“Maybe for my next date you can make a suggestion. Give me some pointers,” he said, settling back. Tucking them both in.

“Maybe we could get cake. Or whiskey. Or maybe I could get so drunk….

“Cake it is,” Steve said, placing a shushing finger against Tony’s lips. 

They stopped talking as the pounding of the rain created a staccato rhythm that lulled them both into silence.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More talking. Maybe small smooching.

Steve examined the broken plaster sprinkled on the floor with a furrowed brow. He didn't look particularly happy or sad, mostly just pensive and…Cap-looking. The walls were yellowed from old cigarette smoke, the gray linoleum in the kitchen was peeling up from the floor, the doors were slightly warped from weather and wear. They stuck when you tried to open or close them. 

Tony, for his part, was listening to the real estate agent blather about things being vintage, and conveniences like the subway and a small grocery just two blocks away. This was the third apartment they had seen that morning, and all were before 10 am. Which by the way was the ridiculous shit Tony had ever heard of, because who the fuck woke up before 10 am on a Saturday. Cap had said he liked an early start. He watched as Steve disappeared underneath an old archway into what the realtor had called a spacious and open dining area. Tony followed behind him gesturing for the realtor to wait. Steve was back to staring at more plaster. 

“You know, I hear New Jersey is beautiful this time of year," he said, and glanced down at his nails. He needed a manicure as soon as possible.

Steve turned and blinked at him slowly as if just remembering that he wasn’t alone. The furrowed brow returned. “Really?”

Tony blanched. “Fuck no. Jesus.” He shook his head in disgust. “No one likes Jersey except people from Jersey.”

Tony stroked a hand down his business suit, unbuttoning the jacket. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. He still wore his sunglasses, but it’s because Steve had asked him repeatedly why he wore them indoors. Have to maintain the mystery and all that.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glowered. “I’m waiting for the point.”

Tony scowled. “I told you the point.” 

He gestured around at the decaying ceiling, plaster remnants on the floor and what was possibly a brick floor? The floor creaked under his feet and Tony had the brief feeling of swaying.

“Did you feel that? In ten minutes, I’m calling the suit and rescuing us from this decaying hellhole,” he mumbled, holding his arms out as if for balance. He swayed back and forth dramatically. 

“No, what you’ve done is make caustic comments and whined about being up before the sun rose,” Steve said. No malice in his voice, just acceptance and a hint of amusement. He stopped and looked closely at the corner. “Is that mold?”

Tony stepped forward and leaned in by Steve, their faces inches apart. He squinted. The corner had around three million cracks and what seemed to be mold sticking out of the white paint. Or fungus. And it might have been moving. 

“No. It’s an alien invasion. I know it. Call the team. We need to assemble.”

Steve chuckled. “This may not be the apartment for me.”

He stood back up and cast a long look around the room with a sigh. He started to walk back out to the realtor, but Tony latched onto his arm and pulled him back. Steve looked back at him patiently. This place was a hellhole, and they had looked at nothing but hellholes. He would be living in one of the worst areas of New York. He might have been Captain America, but that didn't mean he couldn't have his crap stolen while he was out on a mission. Or be shot. He wasn't bullet proof no matter what he seemed to believe.

So, Tony had played along, followed behind Cap and the realtor was moving from shit apartment to shit apartment. His focus kept was drawn to Steve's clothes. Old, and worn. Never any of the Nike track pants, or the latest skin-tight work out shirt. Old t-shirts, steel toed boots, and jeans with fringe around the edges. A hole was beginning to form in the right back pocket.

Tony had asked before about the money, or the absence thereof. But this was insanity. 

“Where’s the money, Rogers?” he asked quietly. 

Steve ducked his eyes and looked down at the floor. His face seemed to fall, and he looked suddenly tired, and older.

“Look,” Tony said, with a deep sigh. He slowly released Steve’s arm and slid his sunglasses off to slide them into his jacket pocket. "I'm not judging. If you spent it all at a brothel…" 

Steve’s stern face immediately returned, and he looked up quickly. “I would never…”

“I know. Seriously. Just tell me. Maybe I can help,” Tony said placatingly, and this earned him a nod.

The room was silent except for the sound of upstairs neighbors having a screaming conversation. So, really, not that silent. Just kind of loud and Steve being quiet. 

Unexpectedly, Steve reached forward and wrapped a hand around Tony’s wrist and squeezed. His eyes came back up and he smiled resignedly. 

“His treatment isn’t free,” he said, and his voice cracked on free. 

Tony didn't need to ask. He knew who they were talking about immediately. "What? SHIELD should be fitting that bill. Hell, Wakanda alone…"

“It isn’t the best. The best is here in the States,” Steve said, frowning. “I have to get him the best.”

Tony straightened. He pinched the bridge of his nose and left his arms where Steve’s hand wrapped around his wrist. 

“Rogers, SHIELD would have the only doctor’s trained for this…situation.”

“They’ve been briefed. Sam knew some specialists, but the line to get to them was miles long. They couldn’t even fit him in,” Steve said, beginning to pace. 

“You’re Captain America. Surely you could…”  
Steve’s face went taut, his shoulders stiffened. “Captain America is gone,” he spat. 

“What the fuck are you on, Rogers? People love you." That Steve Rogers migraine was starting to pulse behind his right eye, and it hurt. He was going to nickname it the Captain’s headache. 

“Housewives, kids. They love me. Soldiers? People in the veteran’s administration? Not quite as much," he said and released Tony's wrist slowly. “The accords had an impact, Tony. I chose to save Bucky, and I don't regret that. But as you know more than anyone, there were consequences.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and gestured toward the doorway. His eyes turned distant, and the light mood from earlier seemed to disappear from the room. "Let's just…go." 

Tony was silent as Steve made his way back into the hall. A few minutes later, they were following Arlene, the realtor as Siri barked out directions. They were silent as they drove Tony typing on his phone, and Steve was watching and waiting for lights. 

“So the crux of the problem is that you have no money. Why not live with SHIELD?”

Steve shook his head. “This isn’t a problem. I’m fine. And I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not a science experiment to be watched.” He seemed to shudder at a passing memory. 

Tony continued to tap away at his phone. 

A rain shower opened up blinding them to the traffic around, and Steve smoothly pulled over waiting for it to pass. The sound of the hammering rain pounded around them. Tony finally put down his phone. 

"I might have a solution," Tony said but didn't dare look up from his phone. He continued to work on a lengthy text to a man in research. He could feel Steve's eyes on him.

“There is no problem," Steve reiterated, and leaned forward to look more closely at the rainfall through the windshield. Thunder crackled in the distance, and that earned a scowl from Steve. "Did you see this on the weather report?"

“You could go back to the tower.”

Steve visibly stiffened and slowly looked at Tony. He looked confused and shook his head. "What? No. I can't…"

"I haven't touched your room," Tony added, feeling his trepidation about what he was asking and whether he was making a huge mistake. He could feel sweat form along the nape of his neck, and every muscle in his body had gone tense. He rubbed the back of his neck and watched the rain for a minute. It was starting to lighten up. Passerby's caught in the storm hurried by.

Steve was watching him silently and speculatively, an eyebrow arched. 

“OK. I may have touched it. You may need to replace some dishes,” Tony said with a nonchalant shrug. He dropped his phone into the cup holder beside him and focused on Steve. 

“You broke my dishes?” Steve asked incredulously. 

“I needed target practice,” Tony replied. He peered at the sky speculatively. “Do you think this rain will let up?” 

Steve's face contorted into a mask of confusion and bewilderment.

"And a couch. The couch is gone." Tony tugged at his tie, loosening it. He began to tug off his suit jacket. He leaned back and tossed it in the back seat. 

Steve gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Where did the couch…”

“And that vase you liked? You found at Ikea?”

“The one Natasha helped me pick out?” Steve’s gripped fingers began to turn white. He looked genuinely horrified which was an interesting expression for a man that had seen the Red Skull torn apart.

“It might…” he said and dragged out the word and ignored what Steve said. He looked back down at his phone. “Be broken.”

He began to roll back the sleeves of his shirt. “ But everything else intact. And ready to go.” He mentally began to calculate repairs. He enjoyed a good renovation. This could be fun. Maybe redo the common area. 

Start fresh. 

Steve nodded slowly as he slowly relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. “OK. Anything else?”

"No, nothing else," Tony said and tried his best to look sincere and may be innocent, which caught him a smirk from Steve so it may not have been successful. 

“But we should talk. After this apartment, we'll get lunch and talk. Maybe have a few weeks where we debate,” Steve said an element of seriousness creeping back into his voice. 

“That’s good. Because I might need time to repair the hole in your living room wall.” Tony frowned. “It’s not small. Kind of the size a repulsor blast makes in a wall, which is odd.” Tony stretched languidly and pushed the back of his seat down. He crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. He hated getting up early. 

There was a silent pause, and then Steve said, “Well, at least the floor is intact.”

Tony grimaced but didn't open his eyes. "The floor is there."

“But…”

“It may have some slight…graffiti.” Tony opened one eye to look over at the seat beside him. Steve now had his forehead resting against the steering wheel and his grip was back to white. “Unrelated, but where do you stand on phallic art? Pro or neg?”

Steve winced. “How about you let me know when things are ready to go and we can move on from there?” he asked slowly. 

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "We can talk. And maybe while we speak I'll call the plumber because your bathroom was demolished."

“Did you leave anything intact?”

Tony opened both his eyes and yawned. He pondered, snapped his fingers, and smiled brightly. “There is a cabinet in the kitchen is still hanging.”  
**

“So, you offered to let him move back to the tower?”

Tony shifted uncomfortably at Leah’s gaze. She didn’t look angry or happy. Just blank. Which was so much worse. 

“And what was your answer?” she asked turning the blank stare to Steve. He scratched at his now giant Jeremiah Johnson beard, then placed his palms together as if praying.

“I haven’t decided,” Steve replied. 

His hair was still short, but that beard had taken on a life of its own. Tony wasn't sure he loved it, but he was quite sure people passing in the street would never guess this guy was Cap. He couldn't blame him for going incognito. God knows Tony had weeks he would kill to be able to do that.

"He told me about Bucky," Tony blurted. It was like as a child when Jarvis would go silent and disapproving, and Tony would blab every sin he'd committed in the prior year. He was not a silence guy.

“About the money,” Steve clarified, but he looked more and more comfortable by the moment. “And the treatments.”

Leah nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.”

She didn't look glad. When someone looked glad, they looked…glad. She still looked blank.

“The Avengers need to be a united front. To keep delaying would be absurd.” 

“And Steve? Can you tell Tony why you haven’t said yes?” she asked. Her face was still blank, but her body language indicated her absolute comfort in this room. 

“I don’t think I’m sure myself,” he answered, looking askance at Tony. 

Tony stared down at him. They’d been through so much together. “Well, if this is honesty hour I’m not sure it’s what I want either,” Tony said. He laid his head back against the couch cushions and watched a spider crawl its way across the ceiling. 

“Then why did you ask?” Steve replied. He didn’t seem angry, or resentful, just genuinely curious. 

Tony shrugged dismissively. “I miss the way things were.”

“What do you miss, Tony?” Leah asked mildly. 

Tony rubbed at his temples. His head didn't hurt, but he needed a moment to compose his thoughts.

"The team. People were pounding in and out of the tower." He felt restless now, but not panicked. He sat forward and looked directly at Steve. “I miss everything. Rhodey still having his legs, Natasha and her absolute bullshit, Hawkeye….” He added with a grimace.

“Well. I don’t miss him that much,” he finished with a frown. 

Steve sighed. “We can’t go back in time. Things are different,” Steve added abruptly. His shoulders tensed. 

“This shit didn’t with the team didn’t come down on you. It came down on me,” Tony said, as his voice gained strength. He growled. He didn’t feel like running, or an impending panic attack. He just wanted to get this shit that had been sitting on his chest for a year the fuck off. 

“Tony…” Steve said. 

“No, I’m serious. Rogers, Ultron was me. I own that. I get it. Genius, remember?” he said, and tapped at the side of his head. "But this accords shit. This…I was trying, Cap. Genuinely trying. And I still couldn’t get it right.” 

"You weren't wrong as long as you felt what you were doing is the right thing," Steve said and rose to his feet. He headed back to the window which seemed to be his go to escape.

"Really?" Tony asked sarcastically, suddenly angry. Angry at how things could go so well and ten fucking minutes into therapy hell and it was a train wreck. He huffed. "Because of it sure as hell seemed like you thought I was wrong when you smashed the shield into the reactor."

Steve whirled. “It was a defensive move, and you damn well know that. Bucky…"

Tony held out a hand to stop him, and Steve's eyes narrowed. "I get that Bucky wasn't at fault. I don't blame Barnes for my parents. I blame Hydra, and I get that they have made your life hell." He paused tiredly. 

“They ruined mine, too.”

Steve stiffened and rubbed the back of his neck. “We can’t change history.”

Tony stepped forward into his space, but Cap kept his eyes on the floor. “Because I have to tell you. My track record of trusting people is less than stellar,” Tony said, his voice caught on the last syllable. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

Steve swallowed audibly and cast his eyes on the floor. 

"I just want to know. Tell me. Am I wrong again? Am I misreading this whole weird tentative thing between us?" he asked and gestured between them. He'd felt so sure this afternoon, but he realized it was over compensating for his doubt. It made him feel nauseated. Maybe he saw something that wasn't there.

“Can we go back to the way things were?” Tony asked. 

Steve’s eyes remained downcast and never lifted from the floor. “I don’t want that,” he said quietly.

**  
They sat in the car in silence staring at Steve's shit hotel room. He'd left the TV on again, so it gave the faint impression that someone was home. The car smelled like the Italian sausage and pepperoni pizza they had stopped for before beginning the drive. Tony did not feel like eating. He felt like going home and swallowing a bottle of scotch while Planet of the Apes played on the TV. Good, wholesome, American past times is what he was about. 

The rain had joined them again, pelting down on the car. Tony felt boneless and weary. His shoulders hurt, his neck was tight, and he opened and closed his hands repetitively. He couldn’t explain why as he stared at them. 

“Come inside. You can pick a movie I’ve never seen, “Cap said, after several minutes of silence. He slid a hand along the passenger side door, as if unsure when he should escape. 

“No, I’ve got a lot of work waiting for me. I’m going to call it a night.” He looked at the dashboard clock, and it read 8:30. Well, that's not embarrassing. He observed his passenger, but Steve’s face remained neutral.

“Do you remember Bruce’s birthday a few years ago?” Steve asked, eyes locked on the pizza in his lap. Tony said nothing as he watched Steve scrape at the edge of the box with his index finger. 

"We'd had a barbecue. We sent Thor for beer and he bought 48 boxes of Coors Light. Hawkeye had bought this cake at a local deli. It was yellow. But we weren’t sure why. It looked kind of old," he said, his mind in the past. He shifted in his seat and rebalanced the pizza against his right knee.

"It was right after Loki. I remember sitting there thinking I'd never belonged. That I hated it here."

“Should I be taking notes? Will there be a test after this monologue?” Tony asked, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So, I’m sitting on this deck at this villa you rented. Bruce is laying in the surf, and he’s laughing. First time I ever heard him laugh. It’s the most amazing place I’ve ever seen. I remember thinking how much I wish I could show my mom.” He chuckled. “She loved the ocean. Even in winter.”

Tony shrugged at the memory. 

“Anyway, Nat was trying to teach Thor Solitaire. Hawkeye was pinging beer cans off the railing of the porch with a homemade sling shot.” He smiled. 

He finally opened the pizza and surveyed it. Pineapple and ham. What they had agreed on. 

“And you sat down beside me on the steps.”

Tony remembered it. Ocean waves and a wooden deck. Cap had been staring out at the water in silence while everyone else acted like a kindergarten student on their first field trip. The sea breeze had blown his hair, and he tugged at the hem of his shorts religiously as he'd never been so uncomfortable. He'd looked vacant. Like no one had been home for a while. 

“You handed me this horrible blue smoothie,” Steve said and looked at his empty hand. “I was baffled because I can’t imagine what would make a smoothie blue.”

“You’re on a need to know basis,” Tony supplied. “You didn’t need to know.”

“And you just talked. You talked about New York, Pepper, upgrades you wanted to make to the armor.”

Tony shrugged and tapped his finger against the steering wheel. 

“But I was completely distracted,” he added and looked up through the windshield. "You made me respond. You didn't let me sit there in silence, and before I knew it, I realized I was building this giant camp fire with Bruce, and I had no idea how I got there."

He smiled and reclosed the lid to the pizza.

“And it occurred to me that I was having a good time.” He paused and looked back at Tony. His eyes looked bluer in the streetlight. He leaned his head back against the seat rest and rubbed his eyes. 

“I wasn’t this guy from the 40’s. I wasn't Captain America or a super soldier."

Tony growled and reached for his door handle and yanked it, jerking the door open. He stepped out into the rain and stormed to the other side of the truck. He snatched Steve’s door open and gripped his shirt and dragged him out into the rain. Steve tossed the pizza back on the seat as he was pulled. 

Water ran cold down the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He pulled Steve toward him his fists wrapped in increasingly wet material. He tugged again as air huffed out of his lungs. Tired eyes met his unflinchingly.

"I have to know," Tony said and pressed his lips into Steve's. His lips were soft against Tony's own but slightly chapped. Steve placed a hand on the small of his back and pulled him in closer to deepen the kiss. The kiss was harsh, demand for him to understand what hadn't been said. Tony groaned and pulled away, Steve hissing as they parted. He laid his forehead against Tony's.

“I don’t want this to end,” Steve said, voice almost a whisper. His eyes searched Tony’s face. "When the counseling is over when we are just a team again. When Bucky is back…"

He cupped Tony’s face in his hands. His eyes held unshed tears. “If we go back to how things were, will we forget that this happened? When Buck comes back, are you going to go?” Steve asked, pulling himself suddenly from the embrace. Tony was stunned into silence watched Steve withdraw. 

“I don’t miss the way things were. At all. I want what we have now,” he said, as his hands flexed. He walked back to the truck and grabbed the pizza. He seemed oddly unsure of himself and awkward, which was disconnected. 

Tony was soaked to the bone at this point and starting to shiver. He blew out a cold and frustrated breath. “Steve…”

Steve leaned forward and kissed him briefly again. “Just stay. ”

Tony nodded and wrapped an arm around Steve's middle. He buried his face in wet sweatshirt and Steve's lips grazed the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for patience. I hope you like it. I admit to struggling with this chapter. :p Like it or hate it I appreciate it. Kudos feed the soul and comments make me happy. But either way, thanks for reading and I hope you had a great summer!
> 
> Also, my beta is pretty much Grammarly so please forgive me for any mistakes. 
> 
> Kudos and comments feed my soul but it's cool if you don't say anything. 
> 
> Did I mention I am now a student in psychology and taking a class on counseling? LOL. Hopefully, I incorporate that into the story.


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